[Soundtrack of the Chapter: My Radio by Stars]
The air in Lima, Ohio has been more stale than usual lately. It has been thicker, harder for you to properly breathe. You have noticed that you have been working much harder to breathe the air. The sun has not came out behind the gray dark clouds in over a year. It seems that all the residents of Lima have been much more down than usual.
This has been going on for a while. Actually, from the first day you have awaken, you have noticed that the residents seem more gloomier than usual.
You have made these observations daily. You have noticed all of these things as you wait at the familiar intersection for the light at the crosswalk to turn white. In fact, you have noticed many things. Such as the moment you woke up in the hospital for the first time. The room was completely bare, the mattress was cold, and you laid there in one of your white cotton dresses.
You didn't know which day was which anymore. You barely knew who you were but that could never truly be forgotten or the last thing that happened before you passed out so long ago. You didn't know how long it has been or what exactly happened. You did know that the hospital was your home. You woke up here, every day.
It would seem that no one even cared enough to acknowledge you. The doctors refused to take the time to answer the questions that you ask. The nurses absolutely refused to tell you anything about Beth or her location. The other patients that walked the halls of the hospital like you did were the only ones who paid you any attention. Their sorrowful eyes too consumed by their own demons to actually stop and talk to you though. You understood that they had their own problems to stop and listen to your's.
So, instead, each day you have walked the same route in hope that you would find what you are searching for. You knew that answers were too far out of your grasp. Though, finding your mother, or Mercedes, or even that gentle nurse who rubbed your head seemed plausible. Right?
Each day was the same as the last, though. You didn't find anybody who would take the time to talk to you and the ones that even met your eyes seemed too lost within their own.
So, instead, you found yourself becoming more reliable on routine and hopeless. You would wake up every morning in your recovery room, 0606, and take your daily walk around the hospital. The nursery would be the only place you would actually stop. You wanted to see if any of the babies were Beth. Your heart inside your body ached because you knew absolutely nothing about your baby girl, not even her appearance.
Did she look like you?
Did she have your hazel eyes or Puck's dark hair?
Instead of any answers, you are only left with cooing babies who weren't your's reaching their little chubby arms to try and grasp you.
After walking the halls of the hospital, you take the 30 minute bus ride to the center of Lima. The streets are busy with the lunchtime rush but no one smiles at you or wishes you a good morning. You are okay with it.
As you walk down the road you pass a few familiar faces. You see a beautiful brunette haired woman who walked into the deli everyday. Her face seemed solemn, no expression except determination to get her sandwich and then get back to work in the 30 minutes she was allowed. Behind her walked a man, about her age, with a face filled with wanting and clothes that always seemed drenched. He saw you, you knew he did, but his want for this woman always prevented him from noticing anything else.
Then, as you walk down Main Street towards the school, you pass a woman who was always sitting on the curb. The woman always sat there and cried, looking at the road and shaking her head. You never wanted to disturb her, so you let her continue to cry.
And lastly there was the little boy who stood across the street of the high school. His long brown hair covered his eyes as he wailed for his mother. He never seemed to find her because he was always there the next day. Once, you tried to stop and help him but he screamed for you to get away. What else could you do?
So, you just continued your daily walk to the bleachers behind the school. The dress you have on today, the same as every day before, blew in the wind. Your head picked up at the sweet smell of peaches. Today was different, that smell had never been present in the thick air of Lima. You looked up as you walk up the bleachers. Your eyes widen at the scene in front of you.
Rachel Berry sat with a brown leather bound journal in her lap.
You have never been more excited to see someone you knew in your whole life. Especially to see one Rachel Berry.
You feet seemed weighted, too heavy to run as you tried desperately to reach her. Her hair was tied back as her bangs hanged down in front of her face. The look of determination, one too familiar with Miss Berry, blanketed her face as she scribbled down in her journal. As you got closer, the smell of peaches intensified. You noticed that her eyes seemed darker than the night at competitions, her skin seemed just slightly paler. Quinn Fabray, you would never admit this to anyone but Rachel Berry was the most beautiful thing that you have seen for the longest time.
"Rachel!" The name slipped so easily out of your mouth. It was as if it was meant to be the first thing you said today.
As you stood above her, your heart began to drop that she didn't pick up her head to greet you.
Great, just great, now she won't even talk to you.
"Rachel!" You nearly scream. The petite girl didn't even budge.
With a huff you take a seat next to her, getting agitated. "Rachel, okay, I know that we haven't talked in a while and yeah, even before that we didn't get along very well but please just look at me!"
The air around you got even thicker, but she still didn't look up at you.
You began to get even more worked up. Your heart was working harder and you felt tears begin to form. You tried harder, "Rachel, please, I'm seriously sorry for calling your Man Hands. As I can see now, your hands aren't even manly. In fact they look really soft!"
Your complement went unnoticed. The Fabray temper in you has officially came out. You stand up, hovering over the girl. Over emotional you begin to yell at Rachel, "Berry! Why aren't you fucking listening to me! I need you right now. Hell, anybody! I have spent day after day locked away and no one has told me what the fuck is even going on. Why? Why aren't you LISTENING TO ME?"
Your hand slammed down on the journal in her lap causing the papers to fly about as the journal slipped out of her hands and land three bleachers down from where you guys were. Your chest rose and fell as the anger flew away with her journal because you now had a wide eyed Rachel Berry looking you dead in the eyes.
A satisfied smile landed on your lips as Rachel didn't move. You roll your eyes, "Seriously, Berry, you're acting like you've seen a ghost. Now that I got your atten.."
Before you could finish your sentence Rachel stood up, ran down the bleachers to grab her journal, and took off towards the main building.
Your eyes widen in shock that she ran away from you. The tears that had formed in your eyes began to leak out onto your cheeks, burning the soft skin that was there.
You finally get someone to notice you, to truly look you into your eyes. After so many days (way too many days), you finally felt less alone in this world. Everything was so fucked up. You never gave too much thought about why or what to do, but as you collapse on the hard, silver bleacher below you, you want to find out.
Your breaths were coming completely too fast. Your thoughts are scattered and your body is getting much more heavier.
Where was Beth? Was she alright? Was she alive? You heard her cry. You heard her.
Where was your mom and why wasn't she ever at the hospital? Was visiting your ill daughter (was she even ill) just too much on the woman who had ran out of your life once before? Is it too much to want your momma right now though? Is it too much to want her to rub your head and tell you that everything was alright?
It seemed so.
You tried to take another breathe, your body tired. It didn't come and your were met by the darkness of your eyelids as you passed out onto the bleachers.
I appreciate all of your thoughts. I would love to know more of your opinions. Please, review and let me know. It really is an incentive to continue to write. Also, have you checked out the other Dead Hearts fic that I am writing? I couldn't decide if I wanted Quinn to live or die, so I tried writing both. Let me know what you think of them side by side.
Also, obviously, I am still in search of a Beta.